


The (Attempted) Justice of Hell and the (Attempted) Vengeance of Heaven

by Moonrose91



Series: The New, Nice, and Accurate Prophecies of After [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), BAMF Crowley (Good Omens), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Ineffable Dads (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Kidnapping, M/M, Prophecy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2020-06-28 14:00:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19813762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonrose91/pseuds/Moonrose91
Summary: Antoinette is spiralling, Heaven and Hell have come knocking (more or less), and things are going to take a spin.That and Crowley and Aziraphale still have no idea their daughter is a prophet able to see the future.





	1. To Tadfield

The next few…weeks, really, Antoinette had gone into hiding, essentially. She panicked over the smallest thing and tried to burrow into them, never fully calming until their wings were wrapped around her and they were _humming_.

Sometimes she wanted Aziraphale, sometimes she wanted Crowley. She couldn’t sleep alone, not in the slightest, and if they left her line of sight, she started _crying_ through the aether, terrified.

They went to Crowley’s flat in Mayfair at night because that was the only place with a large enough bed and covered her with their wings.

It made Aziraphale glad that they didn’t _really_ need sleep since Antoinette seemed to go into a spiral.

She dove behind Crowley’s plants at one point.[1]

So they hummed and tried to coax her into a state of calm, but it was gone, out the window. It had shattered into a thousand pieces and so they made do.

Crowley rocked her gently as he walked, _humming_ , perfectly groomed wings[2] wrapped around her.  Aziraphale’s much less immaculately groomed wings[3] were larger and made more of a cocoon for her to hide in, but he couldn’t walk around with her as easily due to their size.

So it was with some surprise that on one of the nights Crowley had bundled Antoinette into bed, _humming_ Old Songs softly[4] that Crowley’s phone rang.

Aziraphale panicked briefly before he picked it up. “Hello?” he greeted.

“Hi Aziraphale!” Adam greeted.

“Oh, Adam!” Aziraphale responded and glanced at the calendar, then winced when he saw the date.

“I am so sorry, Adam dear,” Aziraphale said softly. “We’ve been a little busy. How are you? And your friends? They’re still alright after, well, the Four Horsepeople and Satan climbing out of the ground for a moment to kill us all?”

“Oh, yeah, they’re fine. It’s a bit fuzzy in their minds. I thought that was better,” Adam said. “I mean, how often do you face people with their items in wood and string form?”

“Quite right, quite right,” Aziraphale answered. “Was there something you needed, Adam? Not that I don’t like talking with you, but it is quite late, isn’t it?”

He glanced toward the clock at that. Or tried to.

He couldn’t _actually_ find one that looked like a clock.

“No, not really. It’s just after dinner,” Adam said. “Listen, Anathema is having a Christmas party[5], and my parents think she’s pretty cool. She says she’s following Yule, but it’s pretty close to Christmas. She’s wondering about Crowley being okay since she thinks some of the stuff might be Evil Repellent, but Dog seems okay with it.”

Aziraphale nodded a little. “He’ll probably be alright, Adam, if he ever went down there,” he responded.

“Well, that’s what I wanted to ask. Anathema said she didn’t know your number and I said I could get it,” Adam responded. “Which is true, ‘cause I _can_ , just not in a way she’d like. I just made the phone dial you. So I don’t have your number.”

Aziraphale blinked a little. “Adam, are you inviting us down to Tadfield for Christmas?” he asked.

“Technically down for the twenty-first, but yeah. Anathema is thinking we should all be there, what with us, well, mostly us humans with you a bit in the back really, stopped the Apocalypse and whatnot. Though shifting to stand down Satan was pretty cool,” Adam answered.

Aziraphale paused at that. “I…we’ll do our best. We have a third member of our family up here now,” he answered. “I’ll have to check Crowley. What’s Anathema’s number? I’ll write down here and then call her tomorrow after we talk about it.”

Antoinette was in no state to go much of anywhere. They had only been out of either the flat or the bookshop _getting_ to one or the other. They hadn’t gone out to eat, instead of getting take-out, and one having to split off to do it.

The panicking that had followed from Antoinette lead to some of those moments where she dove behind the plants somehow.

“Alright,” Adam agreed and gave Aziraphale Anathema’s number before hanging up.

Aziraphale sighed as he glanced over toward the door before he headed back toward the _humming_. Antoinette was asleep, twitching however and Crowley looked up.

“Telemarketer?” Crowley asked.

“Ah, no, young Adam,” Aziraphale said and Crowley snorted.

Crowley snickered a little at that and Aziraphale huffed. “Are you quite finished my dear?” Aziraphale asked after a few minutes of Crowley snickering.

He nodded slightly and Aziraphale sighed again. “Right, well, the lovely Miss Device has invited us to her Christmas Party on the twenty-first,” he said and there was a tiny whimper from Antoinette.

Aziraphale unfolded his own wings and shifted to settle on the bed, letting his wing fall over Crowley’s.

Antoinette stopped whimpering.

“Yeah, good idea. Our daughter, there,” he said with a huff. “Near the former Anti-Christ. That’ll go over well.”

“Might be good to get her out of London for a bit. Someplace…quieter. Part of her distress could be coming from how loud it is around here.”

Crowley ran a hand over Antoinette’s hair, the girl shifting slightly. Aziraphale let out a soft sound and reached over to gently brush out her hair with his fingers.

Crowley smiled at him and then sighed. “Probably. We should figure out a bed and breakfast out that way. Our miracles might be a little dicey out there, though, considering,” he muttered quietly.

“Just a little. My computer at the shop is better than yours, you can figure something there, or at least a number to call,” Aziraphale said and Crowley nodded in agreement.

“So, Tadfield for Christmas, huh?” Crowley asked and Aziraphale chuckled and nodded.

“Right then. We can do that,” Crowley muttered and carefully curled up carefully, more protectively around Antoinette, and fell asleep.

* * *

Getting everything together took only a few minor miracles, and only two were used to get one of the family rooms that had been closed due to a broken heater.

The repairman was able to fix it as the part had been _miraculously_ buried, and Aziraphale and Crowley _miraculously_ got it first. They pack the Bentley in turns, tuck Antoinette into the backseat, and then drive off to Tadfield.

* * *

Getting to Tadfield a second time is less stressful.

No fire, no Apocalypse, no fish raining from the sky as the Four Bikers of the Apocalypse ride onward to start the razing of the Earth.

No demons cutting into Queen songs and telling Crowley how he’ll wish he could die for his failure as if it was _his_ failure at all.

 _He_ hadn’t been the one to _actually_ misplace the Anti-Christ, he just…hadn’t told them when the boy was the wrong boy.[6]

See? Less stressful.

“Dear, you’re making our daughter nervous,” Aziraphale whimpered as he clutched at the Bentley in various fashions as they raced at inhuman speeds to Tadfield.

“Am not. Am I?”

“You’re doing nervous _humming_ ,” Antoinette responded nervously.

“Ah, right,” Crowley said, suddenly picking up on it, along with Aziraphale’s panicked tinged, attempting to be calming, _humming_.[7]

“Sorry.”

“S’kay.”

The drive is _actually_ less stressful after that.[8]

* * *

_Apple Orchard House_ was an adorable bed and breakfast place that didn’t blink twice at ‘consenting gentleman and the adorable niece of the man in tartan’.

They were obviously over 21 after all, and this was Tadfield.

Adam’s parents had _opinions_ on how those not heterosexual, or those who changed genders as they grew up, were treated, and so Tadfield had become a bit of a country safe haven.

It helped it had been that way, at least somewhat, _before_ as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale were sure how she managed. If they had asked the Plants, they would have told them that they moved their leaves and such _just_ enough so she could hide back there. But they didn't ask the plants, so that was what it was. [return to text]
> 
> 2 While demons didn't very much care about their human appearance unless necessary, every single one of the Fallen took meticulous care of their wings, which were the same grand shine of colours that could be seen in Heaven. Crowley's had been black long before his Sauntering Vaguely Downward. [return to text]
> 
> 3 Crowley was very close to tackling Aziraphale to the ground and sitting on his waist to take care of them. [return to text]
> 
> 4 At one point, Aziraphale had heard Crowley even crooning softly along aloud, something Aziraphale didn’t do.  
> Mostly because, much to his embarrassment, the words of The Lullabies had always escaped him. [return to text]
> 
> 5 Anathema didn't believe in the commercialized version of Christmas, or even actually Christmas itself, more or less. She mostly celebrated Yule and called it Christmas. She and Newt had hung the mistletoe under the front door to stay for the year, since she bought Jasmine Cottage, and they had made the evergreen wreath to symbolize the returning of the sun and the continuation of time and the new year. She had also heavily decorated the house in red, white, and green, but only inside and refused to let any other colours be used. [return to text]
> 
> 6 Crowley doesn't _actually_ understand what "less stressful" means, nor that one should maybe try to keep it there instead of going over the reasons _why_ it was less stressful, thus making it stressful.
> 
> Then again, anxiety does things to people, including human-shaped people. This includes Aziraphale in that grouping.[return to text]
> 
> 7 Aziraphale is terrified they will be inconveniently discorporated at all times while Crowley "drives" the Bentley. Thus why he is included in the above example regarding Anxiety in Human Shaped Beings. [return to text]
> 
> 8 Omitting for Aziraphale, but he at least stopped trying to comfort _hum_. [return to text]


	2. A Winter Party

Snow fell early that year in Tadfield, on the eve of the twenty-first and Crowley huffed as they carefully made it to the Bentley, fully bundled up, and Crowley _actually_ wearing boots.[1]

He settled Antoinette in the back, noticing how much calmer she was already and they drove over to Jasmine Cottage.[2]

* * *

When a former (essentially) Antichrist meets a former Human, there are many ways it can go.

This was the most interesting one.

Adam Young stared at Antoinette Fell.

Antoinette Fell stared at Adam Young.

He then grinned. “I’m Adam,” he introduced.

“Antoinette,” she responded slowly.

“Cool. Come meet the rest of the Them,” Adam said, offering her his gloved hand as Dog barked and bounced around them.

Antoinette glanced over at Crowley and Aziraphale, who nodded, and she took Adam’s hand carefully and off they went, Dog running loyally at Adam’s heels.

As it was noted, the most interesting one.

She only stayed with the Them for a grand total of ten minutes before she came running back to Aziraphale and Crowley, wide-eyed and trembling.

But it was the first time she hadn’t _cried_ when they weren’t in her sight, so it was progress.

* * *

“Hello. I’m Anathema,” Anathema introduced and tried to figure out the girl’s aura.

It swirled and shifted, twisting around her, but it wasn't...clashing, just swirling, as if it needed to constantly move.

Her gaze flicked up toward Aziraphale and Crowley, and their own swirling, shifting aura, which oddly enough contrasted at their backs. Antoinette’s seemed to still be spilling out everywhere, but moving toward her back as well.

“Antoinette,” she answered and then shifted to hide behind Crowley and Aziraphale.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” Anathema said and Newton Pulsifer smiled.

“I’m Newt,” he greeted.

Fear shot through Antoinette’s aura, and she dove completely behind Crowley and Aziraphale. She buried herself behind Crowley, and _protectiveness_ rushed through. It almost looked like _wings_ were spreading out, shielding. “Sorry, she’s still a little nervous, and there’s about to be a lot of people,” Aziraphale said softly, resting a hand on Crowley’s bicep.

Aziraphale’s aura was also like wings, spreading out like a shield, and she tilted her head slightly as she looked at them.

She wondered what they were, even as she saw the little girl poke her head carefully around Crowley’s legs.

“Yeah, fine,” Crowley grumbled and picked Antoinette up before he walked past them into the living room with her.

“I brought gingerbread,” Aziraphale said cheerfully. “And presents.”

There was a pile in his arms that had definitely not been there before.

Anathema only poked them enough to make sure they were safe before she showed him where to set them down.

Crowley had an arm, and his aura, stretched protectively around Antoinette when they entered.

Anathema decided she was just going to ignore the weird fluttering, twirling, auras.

* * *

Antoinette sat between Crowley and Aziraphale for the rest of the night. Miss Moonstone, Pepper’s mom, had smiled warmly at her and talked about ‘how wonderful it was that the world finally recognized love’ and Mr. & Mrs. Wensleydale had smiled at her and asked how she liked maths.

Mrs. Ross, Brian’s mother, seemed rather _gleeful_ that all the children, except Brian, cleaned up easily under wet wipes, and Mr. & Mrs. Young had been rather, well…normal, considering they raised Adam.

Who was Demon, Fallen, and Human.

Somehow.

He was also anchored into the world, as much as she was, sort-of. She was Human Altered and he was Human Chosen.

But what he was, was still there. The lines curled toward him, always. Reality was his plaything, even as Human Chosen.

Dog was a Hellhound, even when was a small dog overall, _he was still a Hellhound_.

There was a streak there and given enough _umph_ , he could easily still defend Adam. Hellhounds didn’t die, not easily, not quietly, and not gently.

She tried not to think about how she knew all of that too much.[3]

Instead, she let Crowley’s wing curl around her and tried not to flinch back from anyone, and _stared_ at all the presents.

She thanked them, and felt _overwhelmed_ by the sketchpads and colours, and paints and matching thicker paper for them to go on.

So she did the one thing she could think of as her head pounded and her hands shook.

Climbed up onto Crowley’s lap and clung tight to him as she buried her head against his shoulder and let herself fall asleep to the _humming_ and his wings cocooning her.

* * *

“Well, that went well,” Aziraphale said softly as Crowley settled the sleeping Antoinette in the backseat of the Bentley.

“Yeah, it did,” Crowley agreed softly.

* * *

In Soho, London, a bolt of lightning hit the roof of a bookshop that had the most obscure opening times and, specifically, needed a psychic to translate.[4]

The man who was left standing in its wake was a rather short man, wearing all brown except for his shirt. It felt…wrong that he wasn’t so short, and looking directly at him would give one a headache as if he was so much _larger_ than what could be seen.

Sandalphon, Smiter of Sodom and Gomorrah, had come to Earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Crowley had never actually worn shoes since they became a Thing. He just...altered his feet to be shoe looking snakeskin, more or less, then let them become feet looking in his flat, because it made life easier. [return to text]
> 
> 2 Anathema, after learning that a child made occult and ethereal by cultists was arriving, had, with a great deal of difficulty, removed the horseshoe above the door of Jasmine Cottage. [return to text]
> 
> 3 They were, essentially, echoes of memories of those who were in charge of the Hellhounds and making sure they were not Named before being Gifted, and often delivered the gift personally to whoever had earned the right to one. [return to text]
> 
> 4 Sadly, the most accurate in deciphering the hours, Madame Tracy, had retired and moved out of London. [return to text]


	3. Sandalphon, Smiter of Sodom and Gomorrah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I, ah, completely forgot to post these.
> 
> Sorry.

Sandalphon does not like Earth.

He does not like Humans.

He leaves _that_ to those like Aziraphale.[1]

He has come for one purpose and one purpose only; to _finally_ Punish Aziraphale.[2]

However, instead of the bookshop letting him in with a simple flick of his hand, it struck out at his hand instead.

He blinked sharply in surprise.

That…should _not_ have been possible. He tried it again and got a strike against his fingers once more; a sharp _lash_ of _anger_ really.

He felt his lovely white, heavy, wings fluff up slightly[3] at the fact that _little Aziraphale’s_ shop wouldn’t open to him. “I am Sandalphon, Smiter of Sodom and Gomorrah,” he hissed and tried to _force_ the door to open for him.

He had never even had to touch it _physically_ before, to make it open, and now it _refused_. He could have sworn it even made a rude noise at him before rattling slightly and further clicks, suggesting more locks had suddenly just _appeared_ , echoed in his ears.

Sandalphon smiled[4] at the shop door, but it didn’t even shiver, just clicked another lock.

He turned and left the bookshop, seething.[5]

* * *

Aziraphale frowned slightly as he felt a weird tingling.

He looked around, holding Antoinette, a rare time he did so. He was _humming_ softly as he held her as she leaned against him, _humming_ back as he looked around from where he stood outside his shop.

“Angel, she’s starting to get scared,” Crowley said and Aziraphale glanced down, realizing that she was.

Her _humming_ was taking on a scared little tone.

“Sorry, little star,” he said softly.

He shook off the tingling and snapped his fingers, the shop opening for him before he stepped through and Crowley followed shortly after with Antoinette’s luggage.

* * *

Sandalphon stared with wide eyes.

He truly _had_ gone native, hadn’t he?

Well, he was Told not to go after Aziraphale and Crowley themselves.

Nothing was said about a _child_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Sandalphon was completely unaware of the Archangel Michael's own love and care for Earth and her resignation she hid behind a mask. She was A Warrior, A Soldier, the strongest of the Heavenly Host, the one who cast Satan from the Heavens, bleeding. She was a defender and a warrior. And while she Cast Back Evil, she was never opposed to keeping in contact with them, or trading information.
> 
> One could say it was very Human of her. [return to text]
> 
> 2 He wanted vengeance. But Angels Do Not Have those types of feelings or desires, so he was ignoring that fact. [return to text]
> 
> 3 Sandalphon's wings were made for fighting, much like Michael's were, and he used them. [return to text]
> 
> 4 It was a cruel, nasty, smile, once one got past the faint veneer of politeness. [return to text]
> 
> 5 No one could actually concentrate on him storming off. It felt....wrong to try. [return to text]

**Author's Note:**

> GNU Terry Pratchett


End file.
